


No Tights in Hip Hop

by thejillyfish



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Ballet, Basically Step Up, Hip Hop, M/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 17:10:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1612892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejillyfish/pseuds/thejillyfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Kise didn’t know better, he would have believed that the source of music had been the dancer himself. </p><p>He wasn’t using the music, he <em>was</em> the music. There were no rules, no choreography, no textbook technique. Just straight up, old school, natural rhythm. With animation and breaking sewn together so seamlessly that the melody looked built into his bones, the hooded dancer put on a show that had his friends roaring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Tights in Hip Hop

**Author's Note:**

> Was gonna be a one shot but it got long, and I got busy. So I'm chopping it in half. 
> 
> I have some suggested listening for this fic and it's basically the entirety of Pharrell's new album, G I R L. But most specifically I encourage you listen to "[Gust of Wind](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7AOLnyqpAww)" and "[Brand New](https://i1.ytimg.com/vi/1lbUN-2dqAE/mqdefault.jpg)".... but also "[Come And Get It Bae](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkF0E6PGzsU)"
> 
> Basically just get up and groove to this fic.

There was no sight quite so jarring as that of a ballerina’s feet.

Under all that pretty satin and ribbon, slippers and padding, was a world of hurt. Bruising, bleeding, blistering, what an ordeal to break in a new pair of slippers. A dancer’s whole career could be mapped on the soles of their feet and their heel. But it was worth it, worth all the pain to feel an orchestra resonate all the way to your toes.

Take care of those feet, those feet are life. Without those feet, there’s no dancing, and if there’s no dancing, there’s no life.

Practice was over, and everyone was exhausted in that social kind of way after a day’s toil. Chattering and mingling as they changed from their slippers and tights into their casual wear. However, Kise was always reluctant to stop. Even with the music stopped, his body recalled the rhythm and responded fluently.

He watched his movements in the studio’s mirrors carefully. Their performance was in a few weeks, and he needed to pin every move perfectly.

_Perfectly._

“If you keep practicing overtime, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Kise looked over, and Kasamatsu was watching him warily.

“Call it a day with the rest of us, won’t you?”

“I’m almost done!” Kise grinned and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“You’re done _now_!” Kasamatsu urged.

“Don’t you want me to be practice so that we can be the best?”

Crossing his arms, Kasamatsu regarded him seriously. “Kise, you’re already the best dancer in our company. If you were any better, you’d be lifting yourself. _Don’t_ …” he paused for emphasis, “stress yourself.”

“I won’t, I won’t!” Kise assured. No matter how bright he smiled, Kasamatsu’s eyes remained suspicious.

Once he was halfway out the door with everybody else, he pretended to leave something behind and told the others to leave without him. He’d have the whole studio to himself.

It wasn’t just about practicing, it was just a need to dance in itself. He wasn’t ready to stop, he was never ready to stop. Dancing was a much better outlet than going home and doing homework. Well, his grades might suffer because of it, but that was just another issue in life to dance out through his fingertips.

He was in the middle a particularly tricky sequence when a bubblegum stick of a girl bounced through the door.

“Oh!” She caught sight of him. Kise had paused mid spin and toppled to the floor. “Oh are you alright!?” Rushing to him, she helped him to his feet.

“Y-yeah!” Kise smiled at her reassuringly, which she returned. Her pretty face set him at ease.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, but usually this place is dead empty!”

“I was just staying behind after my class,” Kise explained.

“Class?” She looked him up and down. “Ballet?”

“Yeah.”

Her sigh had a nostalgic air to it. “I haven’t been in a ballet class for ages!!”

“You dance?” Kise asked. Dumb question; she had come to a studio. Though, as Kise looked her up and down and observed her rather… liberal appearance, he assumed it wasn’t of ballet.

“A bunch of us use this space to create hip hop routines,” she said.

“Hip hop…” repeated Kise.

Just then, a slew of others sauntered into the studio. Similarly dressed to the girl, they were all in street clothes. Jeans, sweats, hoodies, t-shirts. Definitely not the attire for a ballet class.

“Momoi!” A tall redheaded boy approached the girl, his eyes drawn to Kise. “Who’s this guy?” No hostility, to Kise’s relief, just genuine curiosity. The redhead had a petite boy flanked at his side, whose blue eyes were fixed on Kise with the same question. The quiet stare sent a chill down Kise’s spine.

“He’s from the ballet class that practices here,” said the girl - Momoi, apparently.

“Oh, cool, ballet?” The redhead looked Kise up and down. “Oh, right, the tights and all that.”

Suddenly, Kise was feeling very self-conscious and wished for his sweatpants.

“You guys aren’t still practicing, are you?” He asked.

“No, no, just me.”

“So do you mind if we use the space?”

“Not at all! Actually…” A few others filtered in. Though they weren’t the least bit organised, those who’d arrived were already busting out moves that Kise could have never imagined, as if it was part of their natural rapport. Like their dancing was all for the fun of it, as they laughed and jabbed with each other. “...Can I stay and watch?”

So they let him, and it was nothing like Kise had ever seen before. Hip hop must have been ballet’s estranged cousin. The choreography was so powerful, precise, and yet loose and emotive. Every limb and muscle on the body was circulating with the music - which, by itself, was classical’s rebellious grandson. At least a dozen dancers moved in perfect synchronization. Movements were extroverted, exploding off their skin. The complete opposite of ballet.

Kise watched in awe and something along the lines of envy for at least two hours. And he wasn’t alone, either. To his surprise, the blue-eyed boy with the unnerving stare did not partake in the routine, but shared the sidelines and watched intently whilst sucking to-go yoghurt from a tube. Occasionally, he’d get up, pause their movement, offer a few observations in a dry voice, receive a general murmur of agreement, restart the music, and sit back down again.

The dancing was inspirational, but that part was just peculiar.

Their rehearsal finished, and the bulk of them went home like any other day.

“Nice to meet you!” The redhead called on his way out the door. He and the other boy could be heard grumbling to each other all the way down the hall.

Finally, only Kise and Momoi remained.

“Thanks for letting me watch today,” Kise said with a smile.

Momoi, despite being red and sweaty and out of breath, somehow maintained her beauty from before. They had bother gathered their belongings and were leaving the complex together. “No problem! Did you enjoy it?”

“Enjoy it?! I _loved_ it!”

“Really?” Momoi said, “Have you ever tried it?”

“Hip hop? No,” said Kise, “I’ve never danced anything other than ballet.”

“Oi, Satsuki, finally! There you are!”

They’d walked through the front doors and were immediately greeted by a deep voice. Kise whipped around and came face to face with a tall boy hopping off of the entrance’s step railings.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” said Momoi.

The boy sauntered over to them. He fixed Kise with an intense look, turned to Momoi and jabbed his thumb towards Kise.

“Who’s this?”

“ _This_ is Ki-chan!” Momoi said it like she was reprimanding the other boy.

_Ki-chan?_

“Ki-chan?” The boy half chuckled and looked between them.

“It’s Kise Ryouta,” Kise said and held out his hand for a shake, of which he was rudely denied.

“New to the group?” The boy rose an eyebrow.

“ _No_!” Kise didn’t mean to snap, but this guy was really rubbing him the wrong way.

“He was just watching,” said Momoi. “He’s in the ballet class that meets before we do.”

The boy snorted. “Pft! Ballet…”

Kise glowered. _I’m gonna deboulé this guy in the ass_. To his delight, Momoi kicked him in the shins.

“Don’t be rude!”

“Ow, Satsuki what the fuck!”

To Kise, Momoi smiled such a sweet smile. “Please ignore my friend Aomine-kun. He’s a punk and _doesn’t understand what it’d be like ballet training for sixteen years_.” Her voice rose considerably by the end of the sequence and aimed like shotgun for Aomine.

“I’m right here, I _hear_ you!” He said.

“It’s fine!” Kise waved it off with a grin. “Anyways, I better be off. I stayed out two hours later than I should have anyways!”

“Oh, are you going that way?” Momoi observed which way Kise was stepping. “So are we! We’ll walk with you!” She tugged Aomine forward and matched pace with Kise.

Aomine groaned, and Momoi aimed for his shin again. But he was prepared for it this time and dodged.

“S-Sure!” Kise couldn’t see why not, other than the disgruntled vibes reverberating off of Aomine.

However, the dark boy named Aomine remained silent for the majority of the journey while Kise and Momoi chattered away about dance styles and routines. Momoi knew a lot about the technical aspects of dance. A _lot_. Probably more than Kise. Probably more than his dance instructor! She said she hadn’t danced ballet in years, but she could still discuss every aspect about it. Not just ballet and hip hop, though. She had extensive knowledge in tap, jazz, and ballroom.

Kise marvelled at an impromptu tap routine she displayed whilst they travelled. Funny, how Kise had almost forgotten how vast the world of dance was and how little he’d explored. When he told her in more detail for what he’d stayed late in the studio for, even Momoi spoke against putting too much strain on his body.

In attempts to change the subject, and perhaps due to sheer, naked curiosity, Kise turned to Aomine. “So, Aomine-kun, you don’t dance at all?”

Aomine didn’t even look at him. He spoke with a hint of amusement. “Not what you’d consider dance.”

Excuse me? Kise wanted to say. He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Momoi scoffed. “Oh, he dances. He just thinks he’s too good to practice with the rest of us!”

The non-committed noise Aomine made sounded a little too much like an agreement.

“Really?” Kise gaped.

“Why should anyone practice dance?” said Aomine. “I only do it because it’s fun. If there were all these practices and rules, it wouldn’t be fun any more, would it?”

“But don’t you want to get better?” Kise asked.

“No, and I don’t need to,” Aomine drolled, “I’m can outdance Satsuki and everyone anyways.”

Momoi glowered up at him. “Oh, sure. ‘ _The only one who can serve it up is me_ ,’ am I right?” She mimicked his tone so well that Kise assumed they’d known each other for a very long time.

“Look at you,” Aomine continued at Kise.

“Me?” Kise was taken aback.

“From the sounds of it, you’re not having fun anymore either,” Aomine said.

“What!” Kise gasped, “That’s not true! I love ballet!”

“Really? Practicing alone when it sounds like you sure don’t have to. Like you’re desperate to squeeze life after every little detail of whatever you’re doing, because there’s no heart in it anymore, and you’re looking.”

“Uhh…!” _That’s a lot of judgement to base off such little you know about me!_

“When was the last you danced for just the fuck of it?”

Wracking his brain, Kise couldn’t actually remember the last time he danced outside of practice or his company’s routine. He listened to music that wasn’t just classical, didn’t he? Didn’t he ever dance to it?

Apparently, Kise’s silence said it all. Aomine smirked. “See?”

“Hey wait a minute-!”

“Don’t take it personally, Ki-chan,” said Momoi. She was rolling her eyes at Aomine. “He’s always been a snob.”

Aomine was about to shrug it off, but Kise wasn’t done. He wasn’t going to take being called unpassionate lying down.

“I just like dancing ballet!” he said, “I’ve been at it my whole life!”

“Have you ever even tried anything new? Ever?” Aomine asked.

Kise blinked. “Well… no.” He couldn’t say that he had.

Regarding Kise like some sort of soggy puzzle, Aomine asked one last question. “Then aren’t you bored?”

Before Kise could even think, Momoi chimed in. “This is us!”

They’d reached a tall, run down apartment building. She dragged Aomine by the arm towards its entrance. _They must live in the same building. Together?_ Kise realized he didn’t actually know them at all.

“Are you alright the rest of the way?” asked Momoi before they went inside, “We can walk you all the way home if you want.”

Aomine’s sour expression suggested otherwise.

“Oh… no, I’m fine!” Kise held up a wave to them. “Have a good night!”

“Nice to meet you!” Momoi waved goodbye. “Maybe I’ll come see you dance sometime!”

Sparing a half-hearted farewell, so did Aomine. “See ya, twinkle toes.”

And they disappeared.

Kise stood in the same spot for a good minute or so. He felt like something that had passed had rooted him there.

“...Twinkle toes?!” 

* * *

 

The next day’s ballet practice saw Kise more distracted than ever before. He kept missing turns, stumbling over steps, and fumbling lifts. Others asked if he was feeling alright, “Are you okay?” “This is so unlike you!” “Need a break?” But he refused them. Cursing, he tried to focus on the dance he’d dedicated himself to.

_Aren’t you bored?_

_No, definitely not!_

Eventually, Kasamatsu pulled him aside. Before Kasamatsu could even get a word in, Kise was defending himself.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today!” He tried a reassuring smile, “I’ll get it perfect on the next try for sure.”

Kasamatsu’s face was stern. “Kise,” he started, “Did you practice late last night after I warned you not to?”

Kise blanched. How was it that Kasamatsu always knew?

He’d barely opened his mouth when Kasamatsu hissed, “Liar!”

“It wasn’t for long!” Kise said, but Kasamatsu was already shoving Kise’s belongings into his dance bag and at him.

“No wonder you’re messing up! You’re probably exhausted!” said Kasamatsu. “Go home, go rest! Come back with actual rest!”

“I really wasn’t here for that long!”

Kasamatsu was kicking him out the door. “ _GO HOME!_ ”

Having no choice in the matter, Kise left. But he didn’t go home. Instead, he headed for the home of Momoi Satsuki.

Maybe it was reflexes that brought him back to the old apartment complex. Maybe he thought that Momoi, who seemed to be some sort of walking encyclopedia into the dance world, would have an answer to his sudden clumsiness.

As it was, she didn’t seem to be home. Kise rung the buzzed up to her apartment several times, receiving no answer. Her analysis of his suddenly flawed routine would have to wait.

Sighing with disappointment, Kise was about to give up. Then, the rise of a distant beat caught his attention. A bass tone hit his ears, and Kise could feel it in his chest. Curious, Kise followed the music. As he got closer, the more he could recognize of the rhythm and lyrics. A crude rap song with an infectious melody. Tracking it to a small park half a block away, Kise found the source to be a group of teenagers his age with a portable stereo.

He recognized some of them from the previous day, including the redhead and the blue-eyed boy. Once again, the blue-eyed boy sipped yoghurt on the side, while his peers did the dancing. Much of what Kise saw now was similar to what he’d seen of them in the studio. That is, however, until somebody new stepped forward.

Kise couldn’t even move.

If Kise didn’t know better, he would have believed that the source of music had been the dancer himself. The dancer wasn’t using the music, he was the music. There were no rules, no choreography, no textbook technique. Just straight up, old school dancing. With animation and breaking sewn together so seamlessly that the melody looked built into his bones, the hooded dancer put on a show that had his friends roaring.

It wasn’t until the music was over that Kise realized that he was watching Aomine from the previous night.

The song ended and Aomine whipped off his hoodie and congregated with the group, who offered him fists and high-fives.

Though Kise planned to back away and escape, blue eyes caught him.

The boy said something to the redhead, and sure enough, the redhead held up a hand in greeting and called over to him. “Yo! It’s Kise, right?”

Aomine whipped around and fixed his gaze on Kise.

 _Too late to turn back now._ “Err, yeah! Sorry, I was just looking for Momoi-san. She’s not home, though.”

“Sorry, haven’t seen her!”

“Do you want to stay?” The blue-eyed boy asked.

The others weren’t really paying him much mind, too busy gabbing with each other and finding the right next song to play. Aomine, though, was watching him quite peculiarly, only adding to Kise’s discomfort.

“No, it’s fine!” Kise said, “It wasn’t important…” And he darted off before anyone else could get a word in.

He didn’t get far down the street before he heard his name being called. Well, not his name.

“Oi, twinkle toes! Twinkle toes!! Wait up!!”

Kise turned on his heel and came face to face with Aomine, who stumbled backwards without expecting Kise to stop so abruptly.

“It’s _Kise_!” He refused to take this ‘twinkle toes’ nonsense.

“Kise, huh?” Aomine smirked none the less. “So, were you watching before?”

Kise squinted, “Huh?”

“How much did you see?”

“...I saw a little,” Kise admitted.

“Mmmhmmm…” Aomine sounded unconvinced, the smugness on his face all the more grating. “So, what did you think?”

“Of the dancing?” _Amazing, it was amazing! I’ve never seen anyone move like that in my life!!_ “It was alright.”

“Just alright?” Aomine asked.

“Did you want something?” asked Kise, increasingly heated.

“Yeah, about Satsuki,” said Aomine, “She’s with her dad for the weekend. But I live next door to her and her mom. Got a message for her? I’ll tell her.”

 _Oh._ “Thanks, but it really was nothing important.” He started to walk away, but he heard Aomine following him.

“Aw come on, you had to come over here for something, right?”

“It was nothing!” Kise repeated. “...Why are you following me?”

“Can I walk you home?”

Kise stopped. “Uhhh… why?”

Aomine shrugged. “I’m not done talking to you.”

Fixing Aomine with a suspicious stare, Kise considered it. Not that Aomine looked completely harmless, but Kise found himself reluctant to end the conversation as well. “...S...sure…” Hesitantly, Kise picked up a slower pace. This time, Aomine matched stride with him. “Don’t get me wrong… but last night, I didn’t think you found me all that interesting.”

Shrugging again and stuffing his hand in his pockets, Aomine said, “I didn’t. I changed my mind.”

Kise’s eyes narrowed. “Why…?”

“You seem pretty tense,” there was that smug look again, “I think you liked what you saw back there.”

“It’s not a secret that I like dancing,” Kise prickled, “and that includes hip hop.”

“So why don’t you try it?”

“Who says I haven’t?” Kise lied.

Aomine grinned. “Pfft, yeah right.”

Kise took offense. “What, you think I couldn’t do what you were doing back there? I have ten years of trained dancing experience under my belt, ya know. It comes natural!”

“Yeah? So show me!”

“What? Now?” Kise scoffed. _He can’t be serious._

“Yeah, right now.” His tone suggested that he was, in fact, very serious.

They stopped and stared at each other. An empty courtyard that Kise always passed on his way to school lay beside them. The sun was starting to set and melt everything under its light into a deep orange. Its reflection off the metal of the park made the light even harsher.

“We don’t have any music,” Kise said.

“If it’s _natural_ , then you don’t need it,” said Aomine.

 _This is infuriating_. But Kise would never back down from such a challenge. With a reluctant huff, he stepped off the sidewalk into the courtyard. Aomine followed. He discarded his dance bag on the ground and faced his challenger.

Aomine crossed his arms and waited, doing a poor job of hiding his amusement. His belittle attitude only fueled Kise even further.

He instantly could remember every single detail of Aomine’s routine, like a movie playing over again in his head - a helpful quality in learning choreography. Now, it would help him show up this jerk. Kise watched as Aomine’s leer fell into quiet shock as Kise proceeded to mimic every dance step and gesture from earlier. Admittedly, the animation was particularly weird as Kise had never moved like that. But his body and his memory had always worked hand in hand. Even though this was but an innocent challenge, Kise was discovering joints he didn’t even know his body had.

When he was done, he was quite proud of himself. “See! There! Not so hard!”

Aomine had recovered from his earlier shock and was currently looking Kise up and down while rubbing his chin pensively. “I must admit, twinkle toes, I didn’t expect you to do all that. Especially not on your first try.”

“Hah!” Kise wooped.

“But…”

“But?!” _But what?!_

Circling Kise like some jungle predator, Aomine spoke like he was still considering the fault in Kise’s performance. “Where was the music?”

“...I didn’t have any?” That part should have been obvious.

“Nah. I should have been able to hear it _from_ you. Just copying what I did earlier doesn’t mean you’re making music. Especially not your own.”

Kise absorbed the words and they felt like acid.

“There was no originality,” Aomine continued. “So you can bust some moves? It’s all choreography, not dancing. Not _real_ dancing anyways.”

“Choreography is dancing!” Kise argued.

“You don’t need it,” said Aomine. He hummed thoughtfully as he stepped around Kise. “What you need… yeah, you need to loosen up.”

All of a sudden, Kise felt a finger poking his ass through his sweatpants. The surprise froze him.

“You’re way too tense. Especially here…” Then there was a whole hand, “...Are you wearing tights underneath these?”

A dozen reactions filtered through Kise’s brain before only one seemed the appropriate response to such a situation. So, he spun around and _WHACKED_ Aomine in the head with his bag. Aomine landed on the pavement with a _smack_ and a curse, and Kise wasted no time hauling himself towards his house in a panic.

* * *

 

Kise didn’t have dance practice on Saturdays, so he had the next day to himself. More precisely, he had it to lay in his bed an unprecedented two hours after sunrise. A lot plagued his mind, and he wished he could just get over it and move on with his life. As it was, he kept thinking of Aomine and his goddamn wonderfully passionate hip hop dancing.

Finally willing himself out of his room, Kise sauntered into the kitchen for a piece of toast. Only one of his older sisters, Sayaka, shared his company so early in the morning. She was still in her robe and slippers, sat at the table with a cup of coffee, a bowl of cereal, and a cracked open medical textbook. Looking up as her brother entered, she saw through him immediately.

“Morning, sunshine,” A coy gleam hit her eyes, “bee in your bonnet this morning? I’m surprised I beat you outta bed.”

“Just a little tired,” he said as he crossed his elbows on the counter and leaned his head on them as he watched his toast cook.

“Hmm… How’s your dance routine coming?”

“It’s coming well!”

“I heard from Moriyama that you left practice early yesterday.”

Kise shot up. “What are you doing talking to Moriyama-senpai?!”

“Nevermind that,” she waved him off, “How come your senpai’s kicking you outta practice?”

“It’s nothing! I was just tired from the night before! I stayed late to practice.”

Sayaka thought back two nights ago. “You were home late that night. _But!_ ”

“But?”

“You didn’t come home earlier yesterday which means you went somewhere that wasn’t practice!”

 _Busted. She’s supposed to be pre-med not pre-law._ “I just went for a walk to clear my thoughts!”

“Your thoughts, huh?” Sayaka thinned her lips skeptically.

If only Kise had words to put to what he was feeling. “Just in need of some inspiration, I guess. Like… Like, some extra mojo. I’m looking for my mojo.”

“Mojo,” repeated Sayaka, monotone.

“Mojo.”

“Well I’m not buying it,” Sayaka said. “I think you’re hiding something. Or… some _one_.”

“Onee-san!” Kise blushed despite himself, “It’s nothing like that!”

A sly smile played on Sayaka’s lips as she took a sip from her coffee, “Well, baby bro, your mojo’s burning.”

There was an unmistakable smell of smoke in the air. Kise whipped around to find his toast suffering. He yelped and tried to salvage his breakfast, moaning woefully.

Once nourished, Kise locked himself in his room and switched on his piece music. He ran through the steps and tried to turn off his brain. _Don’t think about it, just feel it_ , he told himself. Easier said than done. Without the music, he did a few times of trying to make the music himself. Was he succeeding? He couldn’t say. Watching himself in the mirror and trying to gage that made it difficult to totally lose himself in the routine.

The routine, the choreography.

Instead of the piece music, Kise opened his laptop to play something with a bit more of a beat. His library comprised of a fair amount of pop music. Those songs definitely had beat. But for this experiment, Kise believed he needed something completely new. So he entered the internet and searched for hip hop and R&B.

“Wait…” Kise froze halfway through his search, “Now I’m overthinking this part!”

He made a choice to click the next result he saw.

The music started, and Kise waited. He stood in the middle of his room and let the music move him. Closing his eyes, the rhythm began to pour through his limbs. It started slow, with an arm. Then, his head bouncing. His knees buckled, and it took until two thirds into the song for him to really get grooving.

No agenda, no set motion, no thinking.

He mostly became a flailing mess, but he found he enjoyed it. His limbs were much more loose, and he’d never believe it but his butt became a source of movement. He’d never shaken his ass so much in his life. He really needed to dance with his ass more often.

Ten songs later he was jumping on his bed, winding his arms, and screaming out the lyrics of the songs blaring through his speakers.

“ _GOOOOOOD MORRRRNING!_ ” He belted in terrible, broken English, “ _YOU GOT ME FEELING BRAND NEWWWW!_

 _...DO DO DO DO MY LOOOOVE! SO I JUST WANNA SAY!! THANK YOU FOR THIS DAY! GOOD MOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRNING! YOU GOT ME FEEELING BRAND NEWW!! DO DO DODODO! JUMPING AROUND IN YOUR BED!! DO DO DODO DO DO!_ ”

Some time later, Kise turned his piece music on at the same time. He wanted to try again, now that his body was sufficiently loosened up enough.

But when he moved through the choreography, he started improvising in certain places. His body called back to the way it felt when it was just dancing on its own accord. Despite the clash of their style and the classical music, there was something that seemed right. He was screwing up the choreography, but not in a way he cursed himself for. The choreography was becoming his foundation, but the dancing was all him.

The door to his bedroom slammed open. Kise’s dancing came to a dejected halt.

Another one of his sisters, Kiyoko, stood glowering at him, in her pajamas, hair a vertical mess and drool staining her cheek.

“Some of us…” she breathed like fire should have escaped her mouth, “sleep in to a normal hour on the weekends.”

“Sorry…!” Kise ran and turned his volume to a quiet murmur.

Without another word, Kiyoko closed his door and disappeared.

 _Was that what he meant?_ Kise looked down at himself. Was that making music?

No, not quite yet. 

* * *

 

Kise headed towards a now familiar apartment complex. When he got there, Kise rung the buzzer for the number labelled with the Aomine surname. He pressed the button long and hard for emphasis. When a voice finally answered, it sounded groggy and annoyed.

“Whaaaaaaat do you want?”

 _Well that’s a rude way to greet someone._ “I’m looking for Aomine. I mean, uhh…” It hit him that everyone living there would be Aomine, and Kise didn’t actually know his first name. “The son?”

A yawn came through on the other end. “...Twinkle toes?”

Kise recognized the deep voice and disinterested tone. “Are you just waking up? It’s almost noon.”

“...It’s not even noon?” Aomine grunted, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you,” said Kise. “Can you let me up, or-”

An array of noises suddenly blasted through the other end. Someone was yelling, people were running, and things were falling, possibly breaking. Then Aomine returned. “Nah, I’ll come down.”

Kise waited about five minutes before Aomine came jogging down the stairs. He still had bags under his eyes, but maybe that wasn’t just from sleeping in late.

“What?” He asked testily.

“Can we go outside?” asked Kise. He always functioned better in the sunlight.

Aomine shrugged, and they walked down the street to the small park. The silence built a tension between the two.

“First of all,” Kise started once they’d settled on a bench, “I want to apologize for hitting you in the head yesterday.”

“Oh yeah…” A new color appeared in Aomine’s cheeks. He rubbed the back of his head and stared at the ground. “I… I guess I should say sorry for touching your ass.”

“Yes, you should apologize for that.”

“I’m sorry for touching your ass.”

Kise smiled. “It’s fine, just don’t do it again.”

“I mean, I’m not _that_ sorry I touched it…” Aomine, trying to be cute, was ineffective. He caught Kise glaring at him and retreated.

“You were right, though,” Kise said. “I was too tense. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

From there, Kise didn’t really know how to proceed. More precisely, he was a little too embarrassed to admit what he need.

“...Yeah?”

“I want you to teach me how to hip hop!” Kise blurted out.

Aomine’s mouth fell open. At least at the end of the day Kise would have said something to surprise such a know-it-all.

“You’re not serious,” Aomine said.

“I am,” said Kise.

“... _Why_?!” Aomine’s expression was somewhere between gaping and grinning. Sure, he was confused, but he was getting a kick out of it all the same.

“Because I know I can get better that way. I’ll have tackled to opposite ends of the spectrum and it’ll be perfect when it comes together.” When the only response he got was Aomine’s chuckling, Kise continued heatedly. “I hate to admit it, but you knew what I needed to do before I did! That’s how I know you can help perfect my dancing!”

Shaking his head, Aomine said, “Listen to you, though! Perfect this, perfect that. ‘Spectrum’?! What does that even mean?! I told you it’s _not_ about perfection!”

“But that’s what I mean!” Kise pressed, “I want to be able to make music, that to me is perfect! What you did the other day!”

_Oops._

“So you did like it!” Aomine jabbed. He was full on grin now.

“Alright, maybe I did,” Kise admitted. “I _need_ to be able to dance like that, or else, you’re right again. It’s boring.” _Ballet has bored me without me realizing it. I need a new challenge._

Aomine’s face hardened a little. “Even if that’s your problem, why do I have to teach you? I told you before, I’ve never taken a lesson. What makes you think I wanna teach someone?”

“Because out of everyone I saw at Momoi-san’s rehearsal, you were the best.”

That worked somehow. Maybe this guy just like having his ego massaged. He scratched his cheek with a finger, eyes fixed on Kise’s. “What’s in it for me?”

Kise hadn’t planned for that. “What do you want?”

Aomine shrugged. “Touch your butt again?”

“What?! No!”

“Pfft, fine. Let me think…” He leaned back and pondered. After a moment, “Well, I’ll think of something!”

Impatient, Kise suggested, “What, like money? I can pay you, if you want.”

He’d struck a nerve. “ _No_. I don’t want money. I’ll think of something better than that.”

“Fine… alright,” Kise said cautiously. “So wait, you’ll do it?”

Aomine sighed, “Yeah… I’ll do it. I’ll probably regret it, but fuck it.”

“AHHH!” Kise jumped up. “You won’t regret it, I promise!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, I better give you this. Hold out your hand.”

Aomine rose an eyebrow at him. “...Why?”

“I’ll give you my number,” Kise explained. “And you’ll give me yours. We have to be able to communicate!”

All of a sudden flustered, Aomine held out his palm. He fixed his gaze elsewhere as Kise scribbled his number on it. Then fidgeting, Aomine did the same to Kise’s. Kise thought he might have seen a distinct blush of red in Aomine’s cheeks. But certainly not. Aomine hopped away as soon as he was done.

“So, umm… I have to get back right now…” Aomine shuffled awkwardly in the direction of his apartment.

“Will you text me?” Kise asked, “Or should I text you?”

“Uhh… yeah.”

And Aomine was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> xoxo to my beta Lorelai.


End file.
